A Change of Perspective
by TKcloud9
Summary: When Steve disappears after the latest battle, no one really worries - until he shows up as a two-year-old on a history teacher's shoulder. As the Avengers deal with their miniature leader and his new babysitter, they realize there's much more to Steve Rogers than just leadership. And then of course he gets kidnapped. Nobody ever said superhero-ing was easy...


**A/N: Fluff. Nearly 100% fluff. I regret nothing :)**

It was the day after the Avengers' latest battle, and nobody had seen Steve since the end of the battle. He'd not been majorly injured, but Tony was starting to get worried. He'd just decided to do something about it when his phone started ringing. It was Capsicle. "Steve!" he said into the phone, trying to disguise his relief. "Where are you man, we're trying to figure out what movie to watch and-"

"Uh, Mr. Stark?" a woman's voice interrupted him.

He froze. "Who is this?" he demanded, steel in his tone.

"Um, I'm Victoria Lane, I'm a history teacher at the prep school in Midtown, and well, okay, I'm helping Steve Rogers get up to speed on history, and well, he came over yesterday to watch the second movie of Lord of the Rings and then I fell asleep and then he fell asleep, and uh, when I woke up, well, you need to come get him, please."

Cold fear pooled in the pit of his stomach, worst-case scenarios running through his mind. "I'm on my way, where do you live?" he asked.

"No, it's okay, we're in the lobby."

He paused. "Wait, is he _drunk_?"

"No. Uh, just, you have to see for yourself. Please?"

"Be there in a sec." He rushed into the elevator and made it to the lobby in record time.

There was a young woman standing by one of the plants, looking pathetically out of place in jogging pants and a loose T-shirt. She had a gym bag that looked like Cap's at her feet. And in her arms, was a blond, tiny two-year-old, sleeping like a log and drooling on her shoulder. He was wearing - a dress? No, a giant T-shirt, and he was wrapped in a soft blanket.

Tony's mind screeched to a halt. "No way," he breathed. "Tell me that's not Steve."

She sighed. "I don't know. I'm tired and not built for superhero stuff. Here." And she held out the sleeping toddler.

Tony backpedaled hastily. "Uh, no. I don't like being handed things." He pinched his nose and sighed. "Let's go upstairs."

"Kay." She followed him into the elevator, absently shifting the baby to her other hip.

"So how do you know Steve?" Tony asked, tapping on his phone and bringing up her name and profile discretely.

Victoria Lane, twenty-six, formerly Victoria Parker, widowed wife of Marine Sgt Mickey Lane. Graduated from Bryn Mawr with a Master's in World History, and a minor in Para-education. Works part-time as a teacher at the fancy prep school twenty minutes away, receives her husband's pension, has a small inheritance from her grandmother. Hence the living nearby, in a cute little apartment the size of a textbook.

"We met at a school thing," Victoria replied. "He came as Cap to talk to the kids about bullying, couldn't answer a question about racism in the sixties. We had the horrible coffee from the teacher's lounge while I told him all about it, and here we are."

"Lord of the Rings is part of world history?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Pop culture is history too. And that one's sort of familiar to him."

"Uh-huh. And how long have you known him?"

"A year."

Tony's jaw literally dropped. "A year?" he nearly screeched. Cap had hidden his little history teacher friend for a whole _year?_

"We started in the Exploration Age," she said, misunderstanding the cause of his shock. "Cabeza de Vaca, Amerigo Vespucci, Columbus. That's why we're barely in the world of special effects now."

"But he was born in 1918, he should know all that stuff."

"He did, kinda. His schooling was very spotty. Too much asthma, not enough money for books, no college education." She pressed an absent kiss to the baby's head. "But he's so smart, it's kind of ridiculous. Which is why it only took us a year to get this far, and not, like, twelve years."

They got out of the elevator and went into the media room, interrupting the rest of the team's spirited argument about film noir.

Tony quickly introduced Victoria as "Cap's history prof, and this is probably Cap, Bruce _do something_."

Bruce put down his popcorn with a sigh and looked at the ceiling. "JARVIS, is this Steve?"

A blue light shot out from the camera in the corner, bathing the toddler in a blue glow for ten seconds, and the AI replied, "Profiles are a match, Dr. Banner."

Bruce sighed. Tony collapsed into a chair with a groan.

Clint looked awed. "He's so tiny _..._ " He poked one chubby cheek gently. "Aw, he's so _cuuuuuteee."_

Victoria offered him the child, and rolled her eyes when the spy tripped on his own feet trying to move backwards. "Seriously? It's just a kid, not a bomb."

"We don't do kids," Natasha informed her.

"How are you going to take care of him till you can reverse this?" Victoria asked, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you trained to handle civilians, or whatever?"

"Uh, hold that thought," Tony said. He grabbed Clint and Bruce's arms and dragged them to a corner, Natasha following at her leisure. "She seems perfectly normal but I don't trust her. Why didn't Cap come to us instead of a random civilian to play catch-up?"

Natasha cleared her throat. "It's because she's normal, with experience with military guys. Her father _and_ husband were in the service. She knows about PTSD, and she's a teacher. Plus, he thinks she's nice and non-stressful, unlike all of us."

They all stared at her. "How do you know?" Tony asked suspiciously.

"I may have been spying on her periodically since Steve met her," Natasha said noncommittally. "She's not a villain. She's actually pathetically normal."

A childish grumble made them all turn. Steve was on the sofa, glaring balefully at Victoria, who'd just put him down.

"Go back to sleep, Steve, it's okay," she said, gently running her fingers through his mop of blond hair. "You're with your friends now, it's okay."

"No," he said, grabbing onto her fingers. "Toe-wi tay. Pay."

"Play?"

"Pay," he confirmed, nodding eagerly.

She looked from him to the other Avengers helplessly. "I have to be at work in an hour," she said, "I gotta go."

Tony made a decision. "No, you don't," he said. "I'll call and explain the Avengers have hired you temporarily. You can stay and help us with mini-Cap."

"You want me to stay?" she asked uncertainly.

"Steve and Natasha trust you, that's good enough for us." Tony's eyes narrowed. "Hurt him and you'll wish you'd never been born."

She nodded. "Sounds fair." She scooped the toddler up again.

He rested his head on her shoulder and stuck his thumb in his mouth. "Towi," he mumbled.

"Shh, Stevie, you just go back to sleep." She rubbed his back gently.

"No."

"We need to run some tests," Bruce said. "Bring him down to my lab and we can get those out of the way."

Steve pouted. "No." He hid his face in Victoria's shoulder.

"But Stevie don't you want to grow up to be big and strong?" she coaxed, tickling his side gently.

He squirmed and wriggled. "No," he said firmly.

"Really?" Tony asked, surprised.

"He's two, 'no' is all two-year-olds say," Clint said, exasperated.

"No," Steve said again. "Teebie smauw. Happy smauw." He tangled his fingers into Victoria's shirt. "Towi pay?"

"Play afterwards," she promised. "Don't you want to make sure you're not sick?"

He pouted, but didn't say anything.

The pint-sized blond scowled through the blood test, the weighing, the lung scan, the X-ray, and the bestowing of a lollipop.

"So, I think he's two," Bruce summarized, "and he's got no sign of asthma or any previous health problems, so it's safe to say he's got a trace of the serum in his veins." He gave Steve a smile. "You can go play now."

"Pay?" He lost the scowl and gave Victoria a beseeching gaze.

She picked him up. "All righty. Let's go play."

They set up camp in the living room, pulled out colored pencils from Steve's art stash and a copy of The Lion King, and went to town. Natasha perched on the corner of the couch and watched little Steve curiously. Clint perched on the other side of the room, watching both Steve and Victoria like, well, a hawk.

"You could watch better from down here," Victoria suggested.

"I'm not a kid person," Natasha said coolly.

Clint edged off the couch. "Well I suppose I could draw something..."

Steve solemnly handed him a purple colored pencil. "Cwin."

"You recognize him?" Victoria asked, exchanging a glance with the spies.

He nodded.

"What about me, Steve?" Natasha asked. "What's my name?"

He smiled toothily. "Na'sha."

"And you know Victoria," Clint mused.

"Towi!" Steve smiled at the teacher.

"What about him?" Clint asked, pointing at the picture of Iron Man.

"To-mee!" Steve nodded wisely. "I-Man."

"And this guy?" Natasha asked, pointing to a picture of Bruce.

"Boo."

"And the one that flies?" Clint prompted.

"Tor," Steve said obediently.

Clint knelt and met the kid's gaze. "And who are you, kiddo?"

"Teebie."

"Stevie, that's right," Victoria praised, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

He blushed, pleased, and handed her a bright green pencil.

"So his basic identity's still there," Natasha said. "Steve, do you know where you are?"

He continued to color. "Home," he said.

"Where?"

"Nyuk." New York.

"Do you know the year?"

Steve looked at Natasha blankly. "Cu-wer?" he asked, and offered her a paper.

She recoiled hastily. "Um, no thank you Steve."

"No?" he asked, face falling. "No pay?"

Natasha's eyes widened with panic. "It's just, I'm not good at playing. You'll have more fun without me."

He shook his head. "Na'sha pay."

"Take the paper, Nat," Clint ordered.

She took the paper.

Steve beamed happily, and showed her in incoherent babbles how to draw things like houses and spiders and scribble-people.

They played for a while, and then The Lion King was replaced with Finding Nemo. Steve stopped, and stared at the screen for a long while, and then crawled unceremoniously into Victoria's lap.

"You okay, Stevie?" she asked, smoothing his hair.

He nodded. "Mee-mo."

She smiled. "You like Nemo?"

"Mee-mo."

She picked him up, sat on the couch, and set him down next to her. He crawled into her lap again, and snuggled into her arms. She tucked the throw blanket around him and put both her arms around him. He let out a little mewl of contentment and went limp two seconds later as he fell asleep. Victoria smoothed his hair fondly. "You people don't touch each other much in this place, do you?" she asked, casually.

"So?" Clint asked casually. "How do you know?"

"Because every time Steve comes to my place, or we meet up somewhere, he's always very tactile. Hug hello, hug good-bye, offering his arm, when we sit for movies he lets me lean on him." She shrugged. "I always wondered why, but now I know. He's touch-starved, poor guy."

"Touch starved?" Clint echoed.

"Well yeah. A year ago, he was in World War Two, where was he going to get honest affection? After seventy years of absolutely no human contact he gets SHIELD and gets tossed into an alien war. What has he gotten since then? Manly slaps on the back, maybe a couple hugs from Miss Potts? When was the last time any of you touched him? Hung out with him?" She took their expressions as answer enough and pulled Steve closer, resting her chin on his head. The toddler snoozed on.

"We never thought," Clint started, stricken, "I mean, he's Cap, he never needs anything-"

"He says he doesn't," Victoria said sharply, "but everybody needs friends."

Steve shifted. "Hm?" he asked sleepily.

"Nothing, darling, shhh..." She smoothed his hair till he fell asleep again. She looked at the spies. "If Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark can't fix this by the end of the day, you're going to have to prep a room for a toddler. He's going to need actual clothes, appropriate food, some more toys."

"And you'll need quarters too." Clint stood up and hauled Natasha to her feet. "Okay, Victoria, we'll be back. Ask JARVIS for anything you need."

"Ok. And call me Tori."

"Will do."

They melted out of the room, and Victoria relaxed into the deep couch cushions. She changed the movie to _Maid in Manhattan_ , just to have something to watch, and let Steve sleep. She fell asleep halfway through the movie, and woke up to a soft tug on the sleeve.

"Towi?"

She blinked and found Stevie sitting on her stomach. "Yes Stevie?"

"Foo."

"Huh?"

He rubbed at his round tummy. "Foo."

"Food?"

He nodded eagerly.

She scooped him under her arm like a football and carried the giggling child into the kitchen. "What are we gonna eat for 'foo', hmm? I don't even know if superheroes eat normal people food!" She stared at the array of futuristic appliances. "This is not a kitchen," she told the two-year-old. "This is a space shuttle disguised as a kitchen."

Stevie grabbed at her sleeve. "Foo?"

She sighed. "All right, all right."

JARVIS spoke up. "There is macaroni and cheese in the cabinet to your left, Miss Parker."

She jumped, still unused to the all-seeing AI. "Uh, left? Yes. Thank you, JARVIS."

"You're welcome, miss."

She found the yellow and blue box, and JARVIS directed her to the saucepans, the bowls, and the juice. Steve was extremely happy with mac'n'cheese, and in his exuberance got more of the cheese on himself than into his mouth.

"Okay, we've seriously got to get you some clothes," Victoria said despairingly, wiping his little chin with a damp paper towel.

Steve wriggled impatiently, not liking the thing on his face. "No!" he declared.

"Or, how about yes?" Clint asked, as he and Natasha entered the kitchen, their arms full of bags.

Victoria raised an eyebrow. "Did you clean out the Baby Gap?"

"Maybe." Clint put away some groceries and picked up his portion of the bags. "We've got the rest of the stuff down a floor. Come on."

Victoria scooped up Steve, carefully avoiding the cheese stains on his shirt, and followed the two spies into the elevator and down a floor. They showed her to an apartment suite and- "Is that my stuff?" Victoria asked, astonished, as two SI employees walked by carrying boxes of clothes.

"We don't know how long Steve is going to be like this," Clint said matter-of-factly. "Tony's got people for all this, totally professional. It's fine."

Another two employees walked by with a crib and loads of bedding.

"Steve's bunking with you," Natasha informed the schoolteacher.

Victoria's jaw dropped. "Now hold on a minute-"

"We can't take care of him," Clint interrupted. "All of us get nightmares and flashbacks, or night terrors. Probably traumatize the poor kid even worse if he had to deal with us. You are literally the safest option."

"Oh."

Stevie wriggled impatiently. "Ba."

"What?"

"Ba." He pointed to the floor.

"Down?"

"Ba."

Victoria put him on the ground. He wobbled a bit, and then toddled off, making a beeline for the toys he'd spotted in Natasha's grocery bags. "Me!" he said, pulling out a soft plush shield. "Mine!"

Victoria smiled. "That's right, it's yours."

He put the edge of the shield in his mouth and grinned.

Natasha stared at the drooling toddler and grimaced in distaste.

"All righty," Tori said, "somebody needs a bath." She picked up both Steve and the shield, picked some clothes out of a bag, and headed to the bathroom. She stopped just inside the door. "The bathtub is bigger than my entire bathroom!" came the indignant shout.

Clint and Natasha shared a barely-there grin at the sound of water running and splashing. "You all right in there, Tori?" Clint called. "Not gonna drown?"

"Come and see," Tori replied, smirking.

They went into the bathroom, and found Steve splashing happily in piles of bubbles, the water only coming up to the line of his roly-poly waist. He waved at them cheerfully. "Baf!" he said.

"He's so cuuuuuuuute," Clint cooed, plopping some bubbles on Steve's head.

Steve crossed his eyes, trying to look up at the bubbles. "Baf?" he asked.

"Yes," Victoria said, "let's get all clean." She soaked a washcloth in baby soap and started washing the cheese sauce off Steve's face and neck.

They finished bath time, and Victoria struggled to dress Steve in a T-shirt and sweatpants. "Stop wiggling, Steve, you gotta get dressed," she insisted, trying to pull his arm through the hole.

"No," Steve said stubbornly, going stiff-jointed.

She sighed. At least his underwear was on. She released him. "Fine, go play. But you're putting these on later."

Steve gave her a cherubic smile and toddled over to play with his new stuffed animals. "Sof," he whispered, planting his face in one of the toy bears and hugging it enthusiastically.

Victoria took a picture of him. "Uh, JARVIS? Is there a place I could save these in the tower so Steve can have them when he gets big again?"

"I have created a photo album," JARVIS said. "All photos with young Captain Rogers will be automatically uploaded."

"Thank you."

"May I remind you that uploading any content to social media while you are here is strictly forbidden."

"Oh yeah, huh," Victoria said, nodding. "Do I need to turn my phone off?" 

"That will not be necessary," JARVIS replied.

"All right. So, let's see..."

Victoria directed the SI workers to put things away, arranged Steve's baby furniture in a suitable manner, and then realized Steve needed a nap. He was already halfway there, his eyelids drooping as he battled blue whale versus chicken. "Ba, ba, ba shee, hab oo woo," he started singing, rubbing at his eyes with a fistful of chicken beak. "Yesu yesu ee ba fuu," he babbled. "Ba, ba, ba..." he gave up the fight and conked forward, his head coming to rest on the blue whale's side.

Tori smiled fondly and carefully picked him up.

"Mm?" Steve mumbled sleepily.

"Shhh, baby, naptime," Tori said gently, smoothing his hair. She laid him in the toddler bed and tucked him in snugly.

He woke up slightly, bleary eyes focusing on her. "Shee?" he asked.

Tori cleared her throat. _"Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?"_ she sang lightly, smoothing his hair. _"Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. One for the master and for the dame, and one for the little boy who lives down the lane. Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full."_

Stevie was totally out.

She kissed his forehead and left him to rest. "JARVIS, can you monitor him?" she asked.

"Yes Mrs. Lane."

"Thanks." She paused in the living room area of her apartment. "Uh...what do I do now?"

"You may wish to return the call of the vice principal of your school, who has phoned you three times."

Tori blanched. "Right. Good idea." She checked her phone, and hit redial.

"Mrs. Lane," the VP said crisply.

"Mrs. Roker," Tori said, equally crisp.

The VP sniggered. "Tori, seriously, what the heck are you doing at Avengers Tower? I get a call from some SI minion this morning that you're 'helping the Avengers with a critical mission component'. Your third period class is going crazy by the way."

Tori groaned. "Oh, the test prep was today. Oops. Okay. I'll put up a study guide, and if this project takes longer than one day, I'll try and set up a Skype group or an e-classroom."

"Do you want Michaels to sub for you?"

"Yeah, he's good."

"Seriously though, what are you doing?"

Tori glanced at the tiny toddler bed in the other room. "I really can't tell you anything, sorry."

"All right, all right. Have fun saving the world with your superhero friends."

"Thanks." She hung up, and stuck her phone back in her pocket. "Okay. I need a laptop."

"Your laptop is on the desk near the far wall," JARVIS told her.

"Oh. Really?" She went over and found the aging laptop already plugged into the desk charger. "Awesome." She made a PowerPoint of the study guide, and uploaded it to Google Docs, along with several reputable videos that would help them put history into perspective.

Just as she finished, she heard a sleepy voice saying, "Towi?"

She closed the laptop and went into the bedroom. Steve was sitting up in his bed, rubbing his eyes with a tiny fist. "Hey, Stevie," she said, giving him a smile. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

He leaned forward and sprawled into her lap, cuddling his head into her stomach. "Mmf."

She picked him up and let him snooze into her ear. "How about a snack?" she asked.

"No."

She carried him into the living room and tucked him into a corner of the couch. "JARVIS, can we put on some cartoons?"

"Of course." J started up some space cartoons, and Tori left him there to wake up while she chopped up some fruit and carrots.

"How about a snack now?" she asked, waving an apple slice at him.

He made eager grabby-hands, and she sat down next to him. He leaned into her side and began to nibble on different slices of fruit. "Yum," he said, grinning up at her.

"Yum," she agreed.

They shared a snack, and then Tori pulled out the Legos Clint and Natasha had brought.

Steve's eyes went wide. "Toy?" he asked. "Toy me, mine pway?"

Tori smiled. "Yes Steve, these toys are for you. Clint got them just for you." She stacked a few blocks on top of each other. "Isn't that cool?"

Steve's eyes got huge and round. "Cooo," he cooed. "Me?"

She set him down on the floor of the living room with the tub of Legos, and went to grab her laptop. She answered emails from her students about history prep and extra credit, and took pictures of Steve's concentration face as he tried to stack a block on a tower taller than himself.

"Hey Stevie," Clint said, coming into the living room a half hour later.

"Cwin," Steve said, smiling from ear to ear. He held up the multi-colored block of Legos. "Wego?"

"Yeah, I love Legos." Clint sat on the floor with Steve, and they built a spaceship. Clint produced action figures from the toy bucket in the corner and they played Star Wars. Steve seemed to remember what that was, and he made the 'vwoom' noise when the action figures were fighting. Clint did a passable Chewbacca impression, and Steve called their spaceship 'de Miwenum Baccan.'

Tori took a video.

A-A-A

It was dinner time. Bruce was making something in the kitchen, and one by one the Avengers were gathering in the living room and kitchen. Clint and Steve by this time were old pals, and Steve _loved_ sitting on Clint's back while the archer did push-ups. He giggled hysterically every time Clint grunted, and he almost fell off from laughing so hard.

"Easy, there, kiddo," Tony said, smirking at the toddler.

Steve grinned at him and held up his arms. "To-mee?" he asked. "Up?"

Tony recoiled hastily. "No, that's not a good-"

Steve's eyes got big and teary, and his lower lip stuck out emphatically. "To-mee no wike Teebie?" he sniffed, his chin wobbling as an honest-to-goodness tear rolled down his cheek.

Tony's eyes widened larger than Steve's as he panicked. "No, no I do like you, it's just, I'm not a baby-person and-"

"To-mee pease up?" Steve let out a half-sob and held his arms up again.

Tony caved. He gingerly grabbed Steve around the middle and lifted him, holding him up at arm's length and praying that he wouldn't drop him.

"Hug," Stevie demanded, wriggling.

Tony panicked and clutched him close to his chest, automatically adjusting his arms to let Steve nestle against his side. "Okay," he said, when nothing terrible happened. "Okay. This works." He took a deep breath. "Yeah. Right Steve?"

Steve gave him a huge grin and wrapped his arms around Tony's neck in a hug. "Funny To-mee." He stared at the world contently.

Tony looked at Tori. "What do I do with him now?" he asked nervously.

"Hold him, and entertain him, until he gets tired of you," Tori said patiently.

"When is that going to be?" Tony asked, patting Steve's back as Steve babbled and cooed about Legos into Tony's ear and waved his hands. "Ow," Tony said, although he was smiling.

Steve patted Tony's arc reactor gently. "Owie?" he asked, looking up at Tony pensively.

"No, buddy, it doesn't hurt right now."

Steve patted the arc reactor again and smiled. "No owie." He reached for Tony's tablet. "See tab?" he asked innocently.

"Sure." Tony watched in amazement as Steve brought up 'Bubble Pop', which Tony didn't even know was on there, and started popping bubbles. "How did you- you don't even know how to use your phone-"

Tori hid a smile behind her hand. "You think he doesn't know how to use his phone?" 

"He doesn't. He never answers my texts."

"Are these the drunk texts, or the ones with links to Tinder profiles?" Tori asked.

"Yes..."

Tori smirked. "I know nothing," she said, giving him an innocent look.

Tony's jaw dropped, outraged, and he lifted Steve again to stare him in the eye. "You troll," he accused. "You know how to work the Keurig, don't you?"

Steve grinned toothily and said nothing.

"Steve, don't lie to me, man. Come on."

Everyone started laughing at Tony and Steve's stare-off.

Bruce poked his head in the living room. "Food," he announced. "Not as good as Steve's chicken tarragon, but pretty good if I do say so myself."

"Fooooooo!" Steve cheered, clapping, nearly dropping the tablet. "Foo, To-mee. Foo."

"Foo, foo," Tony echoed. "Okay. Let's go." They all moved to the table, and Tony sat down with Steve in his lap. "Wait. Problem. How am I supposed to eat with this in my lap?"

"Him, not an it. And you hold with one hand, eat with the other."

Tony shoved him at Tori. "I can't do that."

"Uh-huh." Tori cuddled Steve and kissed his fat cheeks. "You don't wanna sit with stinky Tony, do you?"

"No," Steve said, giggling. "Tinky To-mee."

"Hey!"

Tori served Steve a helping of vegetables and helped him eat it, scooping food into his mouth one bite, and then eating her own food the other bite.

"You're quite the multi-tasker," Bruce observed.

Tori grinned and deftly maneuvered a bite of potatoes around Steve's flailing hand. "I have three little brothers and sisters and two baby cousins," she replied. "Stevie here is one of the best-behaved toddlers I've ever seen. For now." She gave Steve a mock-suspicious eye. "Are we going to keep behaving?" she asked.

Steve smiled angelically.

A-A-A

"JARVIS, lock down the floor."

"The floor has been locked down," JARVIS said.

Tori put her hands on her hips. "Okay. I can handle teenagers, I can do this." She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Steeeeevieee, where aaaaarrreee youuuu?" she called in a sing-song voice.

A giggle sounded from the general direction of the living room.

She headed that way. "All right, Stevie, I'm coming to find youuu," she called, waiting for another giggle.

A giggle from behind the curtains.

She pulled the curtain back and grabbed a giggling Steve around the middle. She tossed him gently into the air and laughed at him when he shrieked. "You're not getting away from bath time," she announced.

Steve shrieked again. "No baf!" he said, struggling.

"Yes bath," she countered. "Small boys who dig themselves into potted plants get bath time."

He stiff-limbed and wriggled by turns, refusing to take his clothes off, and finally Tori dumped him in the tub with his socks on. "Ew," he said plaintively, wiggling his toes.

She laughed. "Well you should've let me get you ready for your bath," she told him.

He tugged his socks off, splashing himself in the process. "Off," he said, handing the soggy mess to Tori.

"Thank you, Steve." She wrung them out in the sink.

Steve finished his bath and let Tori dress him in pajamas. "Pway?" he asked.

"How about a story?" Tori bargained.

"Stowy." Steve cuddled into her side while she read him a story about the The Little Engine That Could.

They finished the book, and Steve gave her puppy eyes. "More story?" he begged.

"You should go to sleep, Stevie."

"No. Stowy."

"All right. Fine. One more story."

"No. Dat." He pointed at The Little Engine That Could.

"Figures you'd like the story about the tiny engine going up against incredible odds." She kissed the top of his head. "Okay. Here we go."

They read the story one more time and by that time Steve was falling asleep. "Again?" he mumbled.

"Sleep, sweetie." She cuddled him until he was completely asleep, and then carefully slid out of the bed before she tucked him in. "Good night baby." She turned around and froze in her tracks. "You're really scary," she whispered to Natasha, who was standing motionless in the dark.

"Good."

They crept out, and Tori faced the spy. "Okay, so if you're going to kill me, can we do it quietly? If you wake Steve up, I will kill you."

Natasha grinned crookedly. "I promise, no bodily harm."

"Okay. Cool. What's up?"

"Clint convinced me that I needed to befriend someone who isn't insane."

Tori plopped on the couch. "Oh. Do you need recommendations for normal people, or-"

Natasha rolled her eyes and seated herself gracefully on the opposite end of the couch. _"You_ are the only normal one in the tower."

"Oh. Right." Tori raised an eyebrow. "How do you know I'm not crazy?"

"I've been watching you for a year," Natasha admitted. "Just, for Steve's sake."

Tori grinned. "I know."

Natasha frowned. "How did you know?" 

"Steve told me that you were perching on my fire escape the first time you did it," Tori admitted. "You never thought it was weird that I left my curtains open an inch?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't mind that you were under surveillance?"

"Nope. Steve trusts you, I trust you." Tori gave her a curious look. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

Natasha shrugged. "What do normal people talk about?"

Tori leaned back into the couch. "Dating life? I'm not seeing anyone right now, but, do you have a significant other?"

"No."

"Waiting till Steve turns big again?" Tori asked.

Natasha's death glare switched on.

"Hey, we've been hanging out for a year, and the only woman he talks about is you," Tori informed her. She turned on the TV. "Actually, one of the times that you weren't spying on us, he talked about you for two hours straight." She settled on a re-run of Gilmore Girls and glanced at Natasha. "Judging by that glare I'm going to say that you also like him?"

Natasha's glare was still deadly.

Tori grinned at her cheerfully, completely unfazed. "Speaking of which, why don't you play with him tomorrow?"

"I am not a child person," was the icy response.

"You don't have to be a child person to play with him. You just have to be alive, and be able to smile. Can you smile, or just glare?"

Glare. "They're too small."

"Steve is twenty-five pounds, he's a good size sack of beans."

"A sack of beans?" Natasha asked incredulously.

"What? I don't know what else comes in twenty-five pound increments."

"Okay so he's not tiny, but, they slobber."

"He's two, he doesn't slobber that much, and if he does, you wipe it with the bottom of his shirt."

"That's disgusting."

"No, it's just spit. Don't you deal with blood and guts on a regular basis?"

"Well..."

"Well there you go."

"But he's a _baby_ ," Natasha almost whined. "They don't talk properly and they play without plot and you have to have the knack to understand them and I'm a spy, I don't have that knack!"

"Everyone has that knack."

"I don't. I only stayed earlier because the two of you were there."

Tori sighed. "Okay. Why do you like Steve?"

"What?"

"Why do you like Steve?" Tori repeated. "Reasons."

"He's Captain America."

"No, Captain America is Steve. Why do you like _Steve_? Besides the big, blond, buff, bit."

Natasha's glare lessened a bit in intensity. "Because he's nice," she said, leaning against the back of the couch. "He's genuinely kind, and he's always sincere. And, he lies really well, for being such an aw-shucks kinda guy."

Tori's eyebrow went up. "Is that a good thing?"

"For me yes. I can tell when he's lying anyway, it's fine."

"Okay, what else?"

"He's so chivalrous. I mean, yes, he's from the forties, but he really means it. And he's such a troll. You know he's been trolling Tony with the phone thing, and sometimes he'll tell Clint and Bruce things with such a straight face- he convinced Clint that he fought dinosaurs in World War Two."

Tori snickered. "Nice."

"And he does stuff all the time to the head of SHIELD, it's really hilarious."

Tori nodded and held up a hand. "So, you like him because he's sweet, and kind, and funny, and sarcastic, and underneath all that sincerity is a sassy troll. Yes?"

"Yes."

"He's got all those things as a two-year-old, Natasha. He's still Steve, just, smaller. And he can't pronounce his 's's'. And you yourself said that he's got his basic identity. He knows who Na'sha is. So spend some time with him, and I promise, he'll love you even as a toddler."

Natasha sighed. "Fine. Tomorrow."

"Good. After breakfast you can have him and I can answer emails."

Natasha nodded. "Thank you, by the way. I don't know if anyone's said, but we really are grateful that you're doing this for Steve."

"What are friends for?" Tori asked, smiling. She yawned. "Okay. I think I'm going to sleep. Toddlers are hard work." She blinked, and Natasha was gone. "That's so freaky," Tori muttered, and went to bed.

She woke up at two in the morning as the blankets all seemed to be sliding to the right. "Whuh?" she asked blearily, peering over the edge of the bed. "Stevie?"

His blue eyes glinted up at her. "Up?"

"How did you get out of your toddler bed? I put the bars up."

"Me cwimed," he said matter of factly. He held his arms up. "Up?"

"You have to sleep in your own bed, Stevie."

He pouted. "Up, Towi, pease? Pease? Scawy."

"What's scary?"

"Col'. Ice. Pwane. Scawy."

Her heart melted instantly. "Oh, I'm sorry baby, come here." She lifted him onto the bed, and pulled the blankets back into the middle. "Just tonight," she warned him.

He cuddled up to her side and tangled his fingers in her pajama shirt. "Kay. Ni-ni."

"Night night, Steve." She kissed his soft hair, and drifted off with the warm solid weight against her side.

A-A-A

The next morning, she woke up and Steve was gone. Her eyes widened instantly and she jumped out of bed. "Steve? Stevie, where'd you go?"

"Young captain Rogers is in the living room with Agent Romanoff," JARVIS informed her.

She jumped, startled, then remembered what JARVIS was, and relaxed again. "Oh. Good. Kay." She flopped back into bed and dozed off again.

She woke up when she had the uncanny feeling that she was being stared at. She blinked lazily, and found two sets of eyes staring directly into hers. "WHAT IN THE WORLD-" She scrambled back on the bed and stared in shock at Natasha and Stevie as they giggled hysterically. "Yes, it's very funny giving people heart attacks," she said, getting out of bed and checking her own pulse. "How long were you guys staring at me?"

"Five minutes," Natasha said, lifting Steve up like a seasoned pro and propping him on her hip. "You woke up faster than Tony did."

"You did this to Tony and he didn't die?"

"Yep. JARVIS has the video, he can show it to you later."

"How late did I sleep?"

"It's already six thirty."

Tori groaned and fell back on the bed. "See, now, no. That's criminal. Stevie come back here and let's sleep another two hours. Look, snuggles."

Stevie grinned and giggled. "No. Pway!"

"No play."

"Yes pway."

Tori sighed. "Natasha why."

"He was up at five, I was doing you a favor."

"Uuuughhh." She dragged herself out of bed again and went to get dressed. Dressed, face washed, and hair brushed, she felt more human, and came back out. "Okay, who wants food?" 

"Fooooo!" Steve screeched, waving his hands in the air.

"All right," Tori said. She smiled at both of them and led the procession out to the common room and then to the kitchen. "Who wants pancakes?"

"PanCAAAAKES!" Steve shrieked, his voice reaching previously-unheard decibels.

"I guess he wants pancakes," Natasha said, smiling.

Tori started mixing batter and by the time she was finishing the giant stack of pancakes, every single one of the Avengers were at the dining table waiting. There were plates set and everything, and Clint was entertaining Steve with silverware magic tricks. "Food," she announced. She traded the pancakes for Steve, and they had breakfast.

Breakfast was a jolly affair, and as they were cleaning up, Tori went over to Bruce and held Steve out. "Dr. Banner, can you hold him a second while I clean up?"

Bruce stiffened and stepped away. "Um, no. That's probably not a good idea."

"Why not? Even Tony has held Steve. It's fine, just for a second."

He continued to back away. "Yeah well Tony doesn't turn into a giant green ball of rage when accidents happen."

"Neither do you!" Tony chimed in from the kitchen, "I dropped your experiment and you didn't even change a shade."

"Still," Tori said persuasively, "Don't you need to hold the person you're making a cure for?"

Steve gave Bruce a big blue-eyed pout. "Boo?" he asked, holding out his hands. "Boo pway? Pease?"

"You're not scared of me?" Bruce asked.

"No," was Steve's firm answer. He held his arms out and leaned forward, almost toppling Tori. "Hold," he demanded. "Pease."

Bruce tentatively scooped him up, and looked down curiously when Steve nestled into his shoulder and smiled at him.

"I don't see why you're surprised," Tori said, giving Bruce a smile. "You're a good man, Steve knows that."

"Oh."

Steve tugged at his sleeve. "Boo, pay, pease? Wegos?"

"Sure Steve. Let's play Legos."

A-A-A

"Baa baa baa sheeeeee," Steve sang quietly to himself.

"It's naptime Steve," Tori said, her eyes closed. They were laying on the floor in the living room, Steve burrito-wrapped in a blanket with his plush Cap shield for a pillow.

"Not seep."

"You have to sleep, aren't you tired?"

"No."

"Yes, you are. You have to be. You've been running nonstop since breakfast." Tori heard a suspicious thump but didn't open her eyes. "Are you still in your blankie?"

"Bwankie."

"Good boy. Go to sleep Stevie."

"Sing?"

"Okay but then you have to nap."

"Kay."

Tori sang 'Baa baa black sheep' with her eyes closed, waited five seconds, and glanced over cautiously. Steve was completely asleep, curled up in his blanket burrito. "Oh good," she sighed, closing her eyes again. "I'm so glad we didn't manage to have kids. I don't think I could've done it by myself."

"How long were you married?"

The quiet question made Tori bolt upright in shock. "How long have you been sitting there!" she hissed quietly.

Clint snickered from on top of the sofa. "Since ten seconds after you burrito wrapped him."

She blushed. "That long, huh."

"Yep. Nice singing voice."

"Thanks." She sat cross-legged and smoothed her hair. "Three years," she said, after a second.

"What?"

"I was married three years before he died."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Clint fidgeted with the cuff of his sweatshirt. "Can I ask, uh, how he, uh-"

"He was in Iraq, he didn't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"You're really young though," Clint said, clearly rambling. "I mean, you look really young, to be married."

"We got married at eighteen. Married three years, I was twenty-one when he died, and I'm twenty-six now, so, yeah."

"How'd you end up as a teacher?"

"Someone had to make history class not boring."

"A worthy mission."

They smiled at each other, and then Clint stood up abruptly. "So, I'll go bug the Science bros. See you later?"

"Yeah." She smoothed Steve's blond mop of hair. "I'll be here."

He grinned, and spy-melted out of the room.

Tori watched TV (how many channels did Stark have anyways, _goodness_ ) until Steve woke up. They had a snack (apple and peanut butter), did some finger painting and block building, and then had more food, and then watched Brother Bear. "This is historically inaccurate," she informed the enraptured toddler.

Steve didn't seem to care. "Bear," he said suddenly, and ran to the pile of toys in the corner. He pulled out a stuffed bear and came back to sit on the couch. "Bear, look!" he said, pointing at the TV.

Tori leaned over to give him a hug. "That's right, Stevie, he's a bear."

A-A-A

A week passed. Tori was slowly becoming friends with Natasha and Clint, and she'd convinced Bruce to stay and watch an entire musical with her and Stevie, so she decided that was progress. Tony had given her a Stark laptop out of the blue on the fourth day, and Pepper (yes, Tori had a fangirl moment at meeting the powerful CEO) kindly informed her that it was a sign of affection.

And Steve was still toddler-sized. Everyone had gotten used to the pint sized blond, and Tori was pleased to see how well they all cared for him. The previously-standoffish Avengers thought nothing of scooping up the toddler and blowing a raspberry on his stomach, or sitting and reading a story with him. Stevie absolutely worshipped Natasha, and one day he sat in rapt attention for an hour and a half as Natasha did a ballet routine in the gym.

"So pwetty," he whispered to Tori, when Natasha was done.

Natasha heard him, and looked at him with a smile.

Stevie blushed to the tops of his ears and hid in Tori's shoulder.

Tori gave the spysassin a knowing glance.

Natasha blushed. Actually blushed, for the first time in who-knows-how-long.

A-A-A

Two weeks later and Steve was still toddler-sized. Tori had cashed in all her vacation days to take care of him. Bruce hadn't slept in days, trying to analyze the serum and the way it had interacted with the AIM lab they'd taken down. The Avengers and SHIELD were seriously contemplating adoption by someone and raising the youngest/oldest super-soldier from the beginning again.

It was down to either Coulson or Tori taking the job and signing adoption papers, but Coulson was still as much as a fanboy as ever where Steve Rogers was concerned, and even Tony knew that Coulson would never deny Stevie anything. "That cannot be healthy," he said firmly. "Even _I_ got told no occasionally."

"Like, yesterday?" Clint asked, sniggering.

"Doesn't count if it's Pepper. She's not my mother."

"I should hope not."

Tori threw a napkin at the archer. "Don't be gross, Clint. Little pitchers have big ears."

"Wha- oh." He glanced down at the toddler sitting on the floor, paging through a picture book. "Are those good pictures, little man?"

"Good stowy," Steve replied, smiling at Clint.

Clint raised an eyebrow. "Can you read?"

Steve nodded. "I wead stowies awe mysef."

"I taught him," Tori said.

Both men gaped at her. "It's only been a couple weeks," Tony said.

"Yeah, but somewhere the skill is in there. And he's smart. Really smart. I taught him the alphabet and some of the sounds, and then he was off."

Tony turned a contemplative gaze towards the mini-Cap. "Has he always been that smart?" he asked.

Tori raised a challenging eyebrow. "He's your teammate. Shouldn't you know?"

Both of them looked suddenly ashamed. "We never really checked," Tony said after a moment.

Tori raised an eyebrow. "Have you read any of his old SSR files?"

"No. How did you know hear about them?" Clint asked suspiciously.

"Natasha told me. Have you?"

"No."

Tony pulled up the files on his tablet. "Give me a minute," he said, and left the room.

He comes back twenty minutes later, ghost-white, and with a look of awe and terror on his face. He dropped the tablet into Clint's lap, scooped up bb!Cap, and cuddled him close.

Stevie wrapped his arms around Tony's neck and patted him on the back. "You kay, Tomee?" he asked worriedly, his little face scrunching up.

"Me?" Tony choked out, pulling him closer. "You went through three solid weeks of experimentation before they let you lead the Howling Commandos and you're asking _me_ if I'm okay?"

"You kay?" Steve asked again, single-minded and stubborn.

Tony sighed and smoothed his pale-blond hair. "I'm okay, Steve."

A satisfied nod. "Good." Steve laid his head on Tony's shoulder and let himself be cuddled.

Clint was skimming the info on the tablet, his face going more and more white and drawn the longer he read. "He really is super-human," he finally said, dropping the tablet onto the table with a clatter. He drained the rest of his coffee and slumped forward, resting his face in his hands.

"That's all you have to say?!" Tony demanded angrily.

"No." Clint looked up, his eyes cold. "If they weren't all dead of old age right now I'd be saying something all right, but there's no point in wishing you could put an arrow through a dead man." He shook his head. "I can't believe he wasn't even old enough to drink."

"He's only twenty-six now," Tori reminded them. "Well, two, well, ninety, but twenty-six."

"Our leader is a baby," Tony groaned, scrubbing his hands through his hair. "Literally and figuratively." He cut himself off from saying whatever he was going to say.

Steve got tired of being squished and wriggled out of his hold. "Up?" he asked Clint, holding his arms out.

Clint scooped him up into a fireman's carry, smirking as the toddler shrieked with glee. "Who wants to go play?" he asked.

"Meeee!" Steve yelled gleefully.

The two of them left, laughing, and Tony turned to look at Tori. "I can't call him gramps anymore," Tony said. "Thanks alot."

"You're welcome."

He huffed and stood up. "We need to find a cure. Actually, we need to mother the crap out of him before we find a cure." He strode out of the kitchen, calling for JARVIS to buy-

"No bouncy castles!" Tori yelled after him.

"You're not _my_ mother!" was the indignant reply.

Tori sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "JARVIS, run the purchases through Miss Potts," she said.

"Yes Mrs. Lane."

She sighed again. "This was not how I pictured my life going." She made herself a cup of tea and took it out to the living room, curling up in the corner. She hadn't ever thought that she would be a widow before the age of twenty-five, but she was. She hadn't ever thought she'd be a friend slash teacher to Captain America, but she was. She hadn't ever thought that she would end up befriending all the Avengers. And she definitely hadn't ever thought that she would end up adopting a two-year-old Steve Rogers as a single mother.

"I wish you were still here, Mick," she whispered into her tea.

"Tired?" Natasha asked, appearing beside her on the couch, graceful and silent as always.

Tori looked sideways at her and sighed. "Yeah."

Natasha patted her on the arm compassionately. "You can take the day, you know. It's okay."

"It's not that." Tori leaned against the back of the couch. "It's, my vacation days are up. I can't take any more time without quitting my job, and if I quit my job there's no guarantee I'll find anything near as good once Steve gets big again. And if he doesn't, if he stays little, I'm seriously going to adopt him. The paperwork's already in process. And that's another whole thing in itself. I've only got like six months' savings. How am I going to take care of him if I have to work? There's no daycare on Earth that would be able to keep up with him, even as a toddler." She groaned. "At this rate, I think you're going to have to take your chances on Coulson spoiling him rotten."

Natasha chuckled quietly.

Tori glanced over at her, scowling. "This is not funny," she protested.

"Do you not realize where we are?" Natasha asked, gesturing to the room.

"Stark Tower?" Tori asked uncertainly.

"Precisely. Tony Stark is richer than a few countries, and the third-smartest person on the planet even if he doesn't act like it." Natasha gave her a small smile. "Since the first day, you've been on Stark Industries payroll. The adoption papers list your residence as the Tower. Your apartment's been bought in your name and you're renting it out to a nice couple in their fifties. Your husband's pension has been invested in SI stocks." Natasha flicked her on the arm.

"Ow!"

"And that's for forgetting you're not alone," the red-head informed her firmly.

Tori frowned, smiled, and frowned again, even though her shoulders felt lighter. "Wait, I'm renting out my apartment?"

After she'd yelled at Tony for moving her finances around without telling her, she thanked him. Tony gifted her a set of keys to one of the Audi's in his garage. "It's bullet-proof," he informed her. "So when you take Steve places you'll be safe."

"Tony-"

"You're taking it. It's in your contract."

"I didn't sign a contract!"

"Oh. Well, no takesie-backsies anyways." He hustled out of the room.

Tori let out a long sigh through her nose.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Lane," JARVIS consoled her. "Sir has taken charge."

Tori started to laugh, just a tiny hint of hysteria in her tone. "Well, nobody can say he isn't responsible."

A-A-A

Two days later, the Avengers were called out on a mission. With Cap out of commission, Natasha was in charge. "Come back safe!" Tori called out at the quinjet as the door closed.

"Safe bye bye!" Stevie echoed from her hip, waving frantically.

Bruce managed to wave before the door closed.

"All right Stevie, you and me," Tori murmured, taking him back inside off the launch pad. "How about a snack?"

"Nope," he said enthusiastically, popping the 'p' with gusto like Tony had taught him.

She smirked. "Okay then. No apples or French fries."

His eyes widened and he gasped. "Fwench fwies?" he asked. " _Peeeeaaasssee_?"

Tori grinned. "Sure."

Tony's magic toaster oven had the fries un-frozen and toasty in five minutes and they were slathering them in ketchup when the internal alarm went off.

Tori froze, and then scooped Steve out of the chair. "JARVIS?" she asked.

"Intruder alert," he said calmly. "My internal defense protocols are being overrid-" He went silent.

Tori took a few deep breaths, remembering Natasha and Clint's intense training sessions. Step one. Get Steve to the Hulk-out room, _the_ safest spot in the Tower.

She made it halfway there when they were suddenly surrounded by twenty masked gunmen in black and red gear. "Put down the child," the man in the lead barked.

She gripped Steve closer. "No," she said bravely, pressing his face against her shoulder, not wanting him to see the guns.

"Towi?" he mumbled, his voice muffled.

"Shh," she murmured, facing the men bravely. "You don't want to do this," she told them.

"I'm pretty sure we do," the man said, and sprayed her in the face with something that burned like fire and ice.

She dropped like a sack of potatoes, barely hearing Steve screaming shrilly in her ear.

A-A-A

Tori woke up to the sound of hysterical sobbing and hiccupping. "Towi, Towi, wate up, wate up," came the soft, heartbroken sobs.

She felt the warm weight of Stevie on her chest, and clutched at him gratefully. "Steve," she whispered hoarsely, coughing.

"Towi!" His fingers twisted into her shirt and he started to weep in relief. "No seep," he scolded, hiccupping again.

She sat up slowly, stifling a groan of pain at the stiffness in her muscles. Whatever had been in that spray had gotten her good. "Where are we?" she asked, glancing around the plain white room. They were laying on a thin cot in the corner. The single door was locked from the outside.

"Not home," Steve told her, keeping his death-grip on her shirt.

She hugged him close and looked him over carefully. "Are you okay Steve? You're not hurt? No owies?"

"No owies," he said. He touched her cheek, his little eyes red with tears. "You owie?"

"No," she said, "I'm okay now."

"No more sweep," he said firmly.

"I won't." She kissed his forehead and wiped his face with her sweater. "We're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."

"How touching," a mocking voice said from the ceiling.

They both stiffened and Tori looked up at the small dot of a camera. "Where are we?"

"You are guests at my facility," the voice continued. "Do as you are told and neither of you will be harmed."

"Why did you bring us here?" Tori asked. "Are you waiting for ransom?"

The voice chuckled. "My dear Mrs. Lane, you were simply a bonus. All I needed was the young Captain."

Her blood chilled in her veins and she held him tighter. "Don't you dare touch him," she said fiercely.

Another cold chuckle. "You have no say in the matter."

"Who are you?"

"Someone who has been waiting a very long time to get my hands on the super soldier serum," the voice replied.

Tony's eyes widened. "You were the one that de-aged him?"

"Of course. Any bigger and Captain America would not let himself be taken."

The door opened and two thugs came into the room. "Let go of him," the leader ordered.

Tori held him tighter. "No. Please, let me go with him. I won't make any trouble I promise, but please let me stay with him."

"Fine." The leader pressed a gun to her forehead and looked at a terrified Steve. "You be a good little soldier or your babysitter gets a big owie. Got it?"

Stevie clung to Tori's neck. "I be good," he promised shakily.

"Good boy." The leader waved the gun. "Up."

Tori stood, holding Steve close, and they were led through the bleak halls.

They entered a room full of medical equipment where two lab-coated thugs waited.

"Sit," the lab coat guy said, pointing to the exam bed.

Tori sat, Steve in her lap, and watched them bustle around.

One of the lab coats tugged Steve's little hoodie off and inserted a butterfly syringe in his arm to collect blood.

Steve whimpered and buried his head in Tori's side but otherwise didn't move.

She rubbed his back. "It's gonna be okay," she whispered in his ear, "you're so brave, Stevie."

"Mmh," he whimpered.

They took three vials of blood and left Steve pale, woozy, and listless. The other lab coat gave him a sippy cup full of fruit juice. "Drink all of this," he ordered.

Steve started sipping at it.

They were taken back to the cell, and the door locked with a heavy click.

Steve started crying then, silent tears slipping down his cheeks. Tori cuddled him close and pressed a kiss to his hair. "It's okay baby," she whispered, "it's gonna be okay. The Avengers are coming for us."

He looked up at her, sniffling. "Tomee? Boo?"

"Yep. Tony and Bruce and Clint and Natasha," she confirmed. "Coulson, too, I bet."

"De 'Vengers," he sniffed.

"Exactly." She kissed his forehead. "Drink your juice, Stevie, we need to keep you strong, okay?"

"Kay." He leaned against her and sipped at the juice.

The thugs drew blood twice more. They were fed once. Tori had completely lost track of time and didn't know how long they'd been there. Steve just sat quietly next to her, sometimes humming to himself, and playing with the zipper on his hoodie.

Then the thugs came back with the lab coats. The older lab coat, from now on called Thing 1, gestured to Tori.

One of the thugs grabbed Steve and moved to the other side of the room.

"No!" Steve shrieked, starting to kick and struggle. A hand clapped over his mouth but he continued to yell.

The other two grabbed Tori by the arms and forced her down onto the bed. She bit back a scream of terror but struggled with all her might, managing to kick one of the thugs in the crotch. He grunted and sat on her knees, immobilizing her.

Thing 1 pulled out a giant syringe of blue liquid and approached. "Hold still," he demanded.

"What is that?" Tori demanded, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

"A test," he replied, and without warning, plunged the needle directly into her skin above her heart, piercing through the shirt.

She couldn't hold back a scream of pain as the thick needle was pushed into her body and the thick liquid pumped through her veins. It burned like fire as it dispersed, lighting up her nerves and making her choke on her sobs.

They held her down as she convulsed, and as she tried to hold back the pain, she could hear Steve screaming and crying and throwing the biggest tantrum since 1920.

Finally, as the convulsions subsided the thugs let her go, and dropped Steve back onto the cot. "If she survives the night we'll take readings tomorrow," Thing 1 said to the others. They filed out, and the door locked.

"Towi?" Steve quavered, climbing up to her chest and touching her damp face.

"I'm okay," Tori gasped, as her whole body trembled and ached from the whatever-it-was. She clenched her hands into the thin sheet, trying to control herself for Steve's sake.

He shook his head angrily. "Bad guys _ebil_ ," he muttered, wiping her face with his little hand. "Ebil, ebil Zola, bad." He touched her clenched fist gently, his expression crumpled with worry.

"Zola?" she asked, catching the name. "From the war, Steve, he can't be from right now."

"No," Steve said firmly.

The speaker in the room crackled. "Good memory, Captain Rogers."

Steve yelped and threw himself on top of Tori. "No more owie!" he screeched at the ceiling.

"But how?" Tori managed to get out through gritted teeth. Steve's weight on her was torture, but she didn't want to scare him.

"Technology is so wonderful," was all Zola said. "Now Mrs. Lane, the rest is up to your cells."

"What did you do to me?" Tori asked, closing her eyes. There. She could focus better without the light.

"Well. It depends on what your body does. We either saved you or killed you. Time will tell." The speaker crackled off.

Steve let out a sob. "Towi, no seep. No go."

"I'm not," she assured him, "'m just, concentrating."

He laid his head on her shoulder and whispered, "Bwave Towi. De 'Vengers comin'."

She lifted an arm - it weighed about fifty pounds - and hugged him gently. "Okay, Stevie."

He fell asleep soon afterwards, exhausted from his temper tantrum, and Tori tried her hardest not to fall asleep. She had to keep watch, she had to stay alert, she had to keep Steve with her, she-

the world went black.

A-A-A

She woke up to the sound of a distant explosion. "Steve!" She sighed in relief when he was still sleeping soundly, curled into her side. "Kay." She tried to lift her arm, but couldn't. Her muscles were all painfully stiff, exhausted from the convulsions and the stress of pain.

Another explosion, closer this time.

"Steve," she murmured. "Stevie wake up."

He lifted his head and regarded her sleepily. "Up?" he asked drowsily. "Home?"

"Not yet," she said, trying to give him a smile. "I need you to do something, okay?"

"Kay." he sat up and rubbed at his eyes.

"Okay Stevie, I need you to hide under the bed," she told him.

He folded his arms. "No."

"Stevie, if there's an explosion any closer it'll be safer under the bed."

"You me."

She sighed. "Steve, I can't move right now. I need you to be safe okay?"

"Towi no, Teeb no," he said firmly, and that _look_ was 100% Captain America.

She groaned. What a time for him to get stubborn. "Stevie, please."

"No." He curled back into her side. "Tay."

There was another loud crash and the door to their cell slammed open, embedding itself in the wall.

A black-suited figure with a metal arm and a forbidding face mask stalked into the room. He strode directly to the cot, picked up Steve in one arm and Tori in another, and walked back out. He strode down the hall, glared two thugs into submission, and walked out of the facility into the bright sunshine. It blew up a moment later in a spectacular fireball.

Steve shrieked in surprise and hid his face.

Tori bit back a cry of pain at the light, and squeezed her eyes shut tightly until she felt more steady. Well, as steady as she could be dangling in a fireman's carry from a strange shoulder. "Who are you?" she asked.

No answer.

"Some kind of robot?" Tori asked. "Are you one of Stark's?"

He flinched at the question but continued.

A second later, Tori was placed in the cab of a pickup truck and Steve was plopped into her lap. The man in the mask jumped into the driver's seat, and gunned it.

The truck screeched down the street, and Tori just focused on keeping her arms around Steve and _not_ flying out the window. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Safe house," the figure replied stiffly.

Stevie sat up straight and peered at the man curiously.

The man, for it was definitely a man, not a robot, stayed silent during the ten-minute drive, through the stealing of another car, the twenty minute drive, the stealing of another car, and the thirty minute drive to a small, dilapidated house on the outskirts of wherever-they-were. Tori didn't recognize anything at all.

The car, an old Toyota Corolla that smelled like melted crayons, turned off with a soft put-put-put, and the man got out of the car. He picked up Steve and with his metal arm helped Tori get out of the car.

By this time, she could limp, and he half-dragged her into the house, setting Steve on the floor, and Tori on the thin sofa. "Stay here," he ordered, and headed to the back of the house.

Steve came over and climbed up on the sofa with Tori. "Foo," he said plaintively, after a few minutes.

"I know baby. We'll get food as soon as possible..." she trailed off as the man came back carrying three steaming frozen-dinner packages.

"Eat," he said, holding out two of the trays.

"Thank you," she told him quietly.

He stared at her for a moment and went to the other end of the room to eat, his back to them.

Tori helped Steve eat his whole meal, and forced herself to eat everything on the plate. It all tasted like sawdust. "Can we have water?" she asked the man.

He stood up and came back with two bottles of water.

"Thank you." She finished the water, made sure Steve didn't drink too much, and leaned against the sofa.

The man stood there and looked at both of them, uncertainty in every line of his posture.

"So," Tori finally managed to say, "what do you want with us?"

"Not you," the man said. He pointed at Steve. "Him."

She put her arms around him protectively. "Don't touch him."

"He's my mission," the man said stoically. He pulled the mask from his face and pushed the long, dark hair back from his face. "I have to protect him."

Stevie went absolutely still. Even his breathing stopped. "Bucky?" he asked, his childish voice going high with awe and wonder. "Bucky, you here? Not die? No twain?" 

"Who's Bucky?" the man asked.

Steve pointed. "You. You Bucky."

"James Buchanan Barnes," Tori realized, recognizing his face from the pictures and the stories. "You're his best friend from the forties. You're... you were supposed to be dead?"

The man, Bucky, frowned at them both. "That's my name?"

"You didn't know?" Tori asked gently.

A single negative headshake. "I am the Winter Soldier," he replied.

"No," Steve said stubbornly, and jumped off the couch to wrap his arms around Bucky's legs. "You my Bucky. Mine fwend."

Bucky laid his right hand on Steve's soft hair, and said in a Brooklyn twang, "I guess so, punk."

Tori was bursting with questions, but there was no way she wanted to rile this man up. "What are you going to do now?" she asked.

A blank look. "Didn't think that far," was the muttered response.

"Phone?" Tori asked. "We can call the Avengers."

Bucky stiffened. "The enemy."

"No," Stevie said, still clinging to Bucky's leg like a leech. "Dey fwend. Fam'wy. Tomee and Boo and Na'sha and Cwin and Tor, dey good. And me. Teebie. And Towi. Good too." He patted Bucky's knee. "Dey safe."

Bucky growled, the sound low and threatening, and pulled a burner phone from one of his pockets. He tossed it to Tori.

She called Stark's personal cell.

He picked up on the first ring. "Who is this?" he demanded.

"Tony it's Tori," she said, sighing in relief. "I'm with Steve, we're okay, we're out. We're safe."

There was a great gasping heave of relief on the other side of the line, and then a muffled shout of "THEY'RE ALIVE! GUYS, THEY'RE ALIVE! EVERYBODY CHILL!"

"Where are you?" Tony demanded. "We're at the facility where we tracked you down but it's just ashes now."

Tori eyed the Winter Soldier. "We, uh, were saved by the guy who blew up the place. Can you track this phone?"

"Yeah. We'll be there in five minutes. Do you need medical?"

"Not immediately," Tori replied.

"Don't go anywhere."

She closed the phone and looked at Bucky. "Why did you blow up the place?" she asked.

Bucky's expression shuttered closed. "The blood needed to be destroyed," he said.

Steve tugged on his shirt. "Up," he demanded.

Bucky lifted him to his shoulder easily, and Steve traced the edges of his metal arm in fascination. "I-Man?" he asked.

"No," Bucky said. "It's something different."

Steve patted the arm gently. "Coo." He looked at Tori. "Coo?" 

She gave him a soft smile. "Yeah. Bucky's real cool."

There was the sound of whooshing and the rumbling of the quinjet engines.

"The cavalry's here," Tori said wryly.

Bucky dropped Steve in her lap and stood in front of them warily.

The Avengers burst into the house, weapons at the ready in case it was a trap. When Natasha caught sight of Bucky she turned white as a sheet. "Zimnij Soldat," she murmured.

"Natalia," he said cautiously, tilting his head in acknowledgement.

"Stand down," Iron Man ordered.

Bucky put down the knife and gun in his hands and stepped to the side, his hands in the air.

Hawkeye and Iron Man kept him covered while Black Widow and Bruce went over to the two on the sofa. "Steve's okay," Tori assured them. "And Bucky's not a threat. He saved us."

Bruce put a small monitor on her neck and frowned. "I'm more worried about you," he said grimly.

She shook her head. "They injected me with something. I don't know what it was." Another shudder ran through her body and she closed her eyes. "I think, I just need to sleep."

"Tori, no, hey, stay awake," Bruce ordered, patting her cheeks lightly. "C'mon, stay awake."

She forced her eyes open to see worried faces hovering over her. Steve's arms were wrapped around her neck. "'m awake," she slurred.

Iron Man scooped her and Steve up in his metal arms. "Hang on, kiddo," he said, and carried them into the quinjet.

"Where are we?" Tori asked, as Bruce quickly administered an IV of fluids, and attached an oxygen line to her nose.

"New Jersey, actually," Clint said. "Near Steve's old training grounds."

"Mm."

Soft toddler hands gripped her shirt. "No seep," Steve whispered.

"I'm okay, Stevie," Tori assured him. She watched as Natasha herded the Winter Soldier into the quinjet.

"You really had us worried," Bruce said quietly, as the quinjet lifted off.

"Wasn't that long," Tori protested.

Dark brown eyes glinted green. "Tori, you and Steve were missing for three days," Bruce said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh."

Bruce's tablet beeped. "What did they give you?" he asked, exasperated. "Your systems are going haywire."

Tori shook her head. "Zola said, something about life, or death." She squinted at the ceiling, trying to remember. "Wait. He said, if I survived the night, then they would have saved me."

" _If_?" Bruce asked, eyes widening in alarm. "Clint, Tower, _now_."

"Going," Clint muttered, gunning the quinjet. "Ten minutes."

"They took Steve's blood," Tori continued, trying to give them as much information before she passed out. She could feel a numbness creeping over her limbs, a fog covering her thoughts. "They took it, three times. He said he'd been waiting a long time to study the original serum. He, the stuff they gave me was blue."

"Who's he?" Tony asked urgently.

"Zola," Tori said.

Natasha shook her head. "Armin Zola's been dead a long time." To the others she said, "I think he's confused."

"No," Stevie said, from his place by Tori's side. "Zola bad. Ebil voice."

They all looked at the pint-sized Cap. "How could you tell, Stevie?" Bruce asked.

"Sound ebil," Steve said.

"He's not wrong," Bucky rasped, from the corner.

They all turned to face him. "Explain," Tony said.

"He's the one who experimented on me," Bucky said, eyes haunted. "He's been running AIM, and HYDRA's bio-science department, since then. His brain's in the computer. That's why I blew up the facility. He had Steve's blood. They couldn't have it. As soon as I saw the mission, I knew him."

"HYDRA?" Tony echoed, stunned. "No way."

Bucky glared at him. "How do you think I'm here, idiot?"

"How _are_ you here?" Tony asked instead. "Why is Natashalie scared of you?"

Steve interrupted the brewing argument. "Pay _nice_ ," he said loudly. "Tomee Bucky, ever-body _fwends_."

They shared a glance. "All right Stevie," Tony said after a second. "We'll play nice."

Tori grinned slightly. "Both of you," she said drowsily. "Wrapped around his little finger."

Tony was about to make a smart aleck reply when Tori's bio monitor began to shriek like a banshee.

Tori felt her heart stop, and the last thing she saw was Bruce's worried face before she blacked out. Again.

A-A-A

Tori stayed unconscious for two days, her body undergoing changes that left Bruce and Tony shaking their heads. It was the super-soldier serum, diluted, but it was the same serum Steve had, and it was changing her body from the inside out. Her heart stopped twice, her cells changed. She grew another two inches, put on muscle, and her bone density increased slightly. Her brain was firing madly throughout this procedure, but she didn't wake up.

Bruce theorized it was because her brain was reorganizing itself to retroactively remember her whole life, like it had done with Steve.

Except Steve had taken less than ten minutes to change.

Tony theorized it was the absence of vita-rays that caused the procedure to take this long.

Steve was inconsolable, and insisted on taking his naps with Tori. Otherwise, he insisted on staying with Bucky or Natasha.

A-A-A

Tori woke up feeling better than she'd felt in her entire life. Also, she was ravenously hungry. But other than that, everything was all good. She blinked the sleep away from her eyes, and raised a hand to rub at them.

A hand caught her wrist gently before she could accidentally detach herself from the IV. "Hey, easy," the voice said. It was Clint.

"Clint?" Tori rasped, and coughed. "Water?"

He helped her sit up and sip some water. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Great, actually." She frowned at him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He handed her a mirror. "You got super-serum'ed."

She stared at the mirror in disbelief. She was still herself, but... her teen acne scars were gone, her lips were full and plump, and... she tilted the mirror downwards. Her chest was fuller and firm, and she had defined _abs_. "Whoa," she said, after a second.

"Yeah," Clint said, grinning at her.

"How long was I out?"

"Uh, two days. It's Saturday now."

She nodded slowly. "And Steve?"

"Still fun-sized," he said, frowning. "Bruce is close to a reversal though." He patted her on the arm. "You feeling up for visitors?"

"Yeah. And food, please?"

He grinned. "Sure thing."

Tori didn't have to wait long. Ten seconds later a tiny blond blur was streaking through the door and throwing himself in her arms. "Towi!" he said enthusiastically. "You wake! All better?"

"All better," she promised him.

He kissed her cheek and hugged her happily. "Yay," he said contentedly.

Natasha came in a moment later, looking amused. "How do you feel?" she asked Tori.

Tori smoothed Stevie's soft hair. "Better than ever, actually."

Natasha nodded. "Good."

"How's Bucky?" Tori asked. "Is it really him?" 

Natasha nodded again. "We're working on deprogramming him, and he's got a long road of recovery ahead to figure out which memories were real or implanted, but," she shrugged. "If I could do it, he can do it. We have faith."

"Fait," Steve echoed, beaming at the universe in general.

Clint came in with a platter of hamburgers and a small hamburger on another plate. "All right, lunchtime," he said.

Steve refused to sit elsewhere, so Tori ate her hamburgers one-handed while Steve worked on the mini one.

She had six burgers before she was satisfied. "This is going to take some getting used to," she said, snagging the pickles out of Steve's burger.

"Uck," Steve said, wrinkling his nose at her.

"Yum," she corrected.

He scrunched his whole face in retaliation. "Yuck."

She tickled him. "You're yucky," she retorted.

He giggled and clasped his arms around her neck. "No uck."

She hugged him and looked at Natasha. "When can I get out of here?"

"You can go shower and change, and drink like a gallon of electrolytes, and then Bruce wants you back here for a checkup."

"Okay." She stood up and swung Steve to her hip. "You wanna go with Natasha while I shower?"

"Yes." Steve reached out to Natasha and snuggled into her arms. "Na'sha, pay Wegos me?" he asked.

Natasha smiled at him. "I'd love to."

They escorted Tori to her apartment to make sure she could walk okay, and she took a long, hot shower. She threw on some clothes that used to fit her loose and baggy. Now they were almost too small. She sighed. "Gonna need to buy a new wardrobe. Great."

Bruce was waiting for her. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Fine."

"Hm." He checked her pulse, blood pressure, temperature, reflexes, memory, and handed her a stress ball to squish.

She squished it so hard it exploded. Her eyes widened. "Um."

"It didn't explode as fast as I thought it would," Bruce noted, writing it down. "So, you're not as strong as Steve."

"Good," she said shakily, folding her hands in her lap. "Because that was really scary." Her eyes widened. "Ohmygoodness what if I _crush_ him?"

Bruce grabbed her wrists gently. "Breathe," he ordered quietly.

She took a few deep breaths. "Okay. Breathing. I'm totally calm. I'm just a Budweiser Lite version of Captain America. This is totally fine."

"Breathe slower," Bruce told her.

She forced herself to relax, taking deep breaths until her heart rate slowed.

"Better?" Bruce asked.

"Uh... yes."

"Okay." He patted her knee. "Don't worry. Steve had to retrain his body, Bucky had to do the same, I had to do the same thing, Natasha too. Everything's going to be okay. Just be mindful of your force." 

She nodded.

He ran a few more scans, got a blood sample, and let her go. "Try to get some rest," he said. "Tomorrow I want to get an endurance test, to see how you're doing."

"Sure." She cleared her throat. "How, uh, how close are you to turning Steve big again?"

"I'm actually synthesizing the cure right now," Bruce said. "He'll be 6'2" by the end of the day." He gave her a small smile and went back to his lab.

Tori made a beeline for Steve and picked him up. "I'm gonna miss the pocket-size edition when you're big again," she told him, kissing his cheeks.

He looked at her curiously, and showed her the Lego submarine he and Natasha were building.

The other Avengers trickled into the room after a while, alerted that they were losing their little Stevie by the end of the day, and they all played Legos and action figures and stuffed animals on the floor, Disney playing in the background.

Bruce came in around six thirty, looking exhausted and triumphant. "Done," he announced.

Steve tilted his head and looked at Bruce. "Done?" he repeated.

"Yes."

Steve pouted and crawled into Tori's lap. "Teebie big now?" he asked, giving them all puppy eyes.

"That's how you're supposed to be," Clint explained gently.

"No," Stevie said, leaning against Tori's chest. "Happy smauw."

"You can be happy when you're big, too," Tori coaxed, not letting her heart break at the sadness in his big blue eyes. "We'll all still be here."

"Na'sha, Tomee, Boo, Cwin, Bucky, you too?" he asked.

"Everybody," Tori promised.

He contemplated this and looked at Natasha.

She read the question in his eyes, and smiled, reaching over to cup his cheek. "I'll still like you when you're big, Steve, I promise."

He nodded and turned to Tony. "Tomee?" he asked quietly. "Wike me?"

"Yeah," Tony said, voice suddenly rough. "I like you, Steve, big or small."

Steve frowned and looked up at Boo. "Kay," he said, holding up his arms to be carried. "Big now."

Tori kissed him on the forehead and handed him over to Bruce.

Bruce carried him out to the lab.

Everyone shared a glance, and bolted for the elevator en masse.

They got there just as Bruce was releasing the gas into the plastic tent where Stevie was sitting under a blanket.

The entire tent fogged up, and then dispersed. Sitting there under the blanket was now a twenty-three-year-old Steve Rogers, 6'2" and Dorito-shaped. He blinked in surprise, coughed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Bruce?" he asked, bewildered. "What's going on?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Bruce prompted, coming in to take his vitals.

"Uh... the battle?" Steve asked uncertainly. "Why am I-"

"Answer the question first, please?" Bruce asked.

"Okay. The battle, and then, I went to a friend's house, and-" he caught sight of Tori standing with the others, and his jaw dropped. "Wait, what's going on-" His eyes widened to a cartoonish size and then he blushed from the tops of his ears to his chest. "Was I just a toddler?" he demanded.

"Uh, yes."

Steve let out a tiny, pained whimper of embarrassment and tried to hide further under the blanket.

"No use, Steve," Tony told him, grinning devilishly. "We've all suffered through bath time with our little Stevie."

Steve turned a shade darker and groaned.

"It's okay," Natasha told him, smirking fondly. "You were cute as a baby."

He blushed harder.

"All right, all right, out," Bruce said reprovingly, ushering everyone away.

The rest of the Avengers and Tori were just getting into the elevator when a half-dressed Steve dashed down the corridor towards the stairs.

"You think he remembered about Bucky?" Tony asked conversationally.

"Either that or he's going off to live in a cave," Clint replied.

A-A-A

Eventually all the toddler utensils disappeared from the Tower, except for a few stuffed animals and action figures that managed to make their way into different apartments (and _all_ the Legos disappeared into the vents, coughClintcough). None of the team stopped mothering Steve for a long, long time, and except for on a few occasions, didn't underestimate him again.

The Avengers took Victoria Lane officially under their wing, and started training her to be a superhero.

They took charge of Bucky Barnes, too, and gave him back his memories and his free will.

Both new additions were useful when it was discovered that HYDRA was growing tendrils within SHIELD.

The day the helicarriers crashed, a grumbling Bucky jumped into the river after his captain and pulled Steve from the water. "You're supposed to call for backup, idiot, not just _jump_ , like a _moron,_ without a _parachute_ ," he groused, starting chest compressions and letting Steve cough the Potomac water out of his lungs. "You idiot."

Tori jumped off the stolen motorcycle, knelt beside him, bruised and broken, and ripped open Steve's uniform to check for injuries. "Come on Steve, really," she said. "Natasha's gonna _kill_ you."

When Steve woke up in the hospital ward of Avengers Tower, the anxious Avengers hovering around him, Natasha did not kill him. She kissed him, instead. Nobody minded.

"Took 'em long enough," Tori said, ushering the others out of the hospital room.

Tony smirked.

"No," Bruce told him tiredly. "Whatever you're thinking of saying, no."

Tony pouted at him. "Brucie bear, you're no fun."

The two science bros disappeared down the hall squabbling about Science! and left Tori and Bucky in the hallway. Clint had disappeared somewhere with Sam, his new bird buddy.

"So, we've got the science bros," Bucky said conversationally, "we've got the bird bros, and we've got the red-white-and-blue duo. Thor doesn't count, so, what are we gonna call ourselves?"

Tori raised an eyebrow. "Derivatives of super soldier serum duo?" she suggested.

He shook his head. "Too long."

"Uh-huh. So what do you suggest, James?"

He smiled at her. "How about, a courtin' couple?"

She blushed under his twinkling gaze. "Are you asking me out, Bucky Barnes?" she asked.

He stepped closer to her and cupped her face in his hands. "If you'd like."

She grabbed the front of his e=mc2 nerd shirt and pulled him closer. "How could I resist my own personal piece of history?" she asked teasingly.

His kiss cut off the rest of her well-planned puns.

Nobody minded that, either.


End file.
